Whenever they go bobbing into the hall from the carriage, and catch a
glimpse of my little physiognomy poked out from behind a policeman's
cape in the rain, I daresay they think I am wondering and admiring with
all my eyes and heart, but they little think they're only working for my
dolls! There was Lady Belinda Whitrose. I said one night when she came
out of the carriage. 'You'll do, my dear!' and I ran straight home, and
cut her out, and basted her. Back I came again, and waited behind the
men that called the carriages. Very bad night too. At last, 'Lady
Belinda's Whitrose's carriage!' Lady Belinda Whitrose coming down! And I
made her try on--oh! and take pains about it too--before she got seated.
That's Lady Belinda hanging up by the waist, much too near the gas-light
for a wax one, with her toes turned in."
When they had plodded on for some time, they reached a certain tavern,
where Mr. Riah had some business to transact with its proprietress, Miss
Abbey Potterson, to whom he presented himself, and was about to
introduce his young companion when Miss Wren interrupted him:
"Stop a bit," she said, "I'll give the lady my card." She produced it
from her pocket with an air, and Miss Abbey took the diminutive
document, and found it to run thus:
Miss JENNY WREN.
_Dolls' Dressmaker._.
_Dolls attended at their own residences_.
So great were her amusement and astonishment, and so interested was she
in the odd little creature that she at once asked:
"Did you ever taste shrub, child?"
Miss Wren shook her head.
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